Fighting to Live
by Sakura245
Summary: "Fighting back now, are we?" He questioned with a smooth voice. Fitzgerald threw Atsushi to the ground and slammed his foot onto the boy's sternum, making him cough up more burning fluids. "I recommend saving that for the arena, tiger," the man said as he ground the ball of his foot into Atsushi's chest.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, wonderful readers! I've had this idea rolling around in my brain for awhile, and I finally wrote it out.**

 **Enjoy!**

Atsushi's body hurt all over when he woke up. His eyes opened to complete darkness. He pushed himself up as quickly as his stiff limbs would allow, squinting. Atsushi held his hand up in front of his face, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. He couldn't even see the movement before his eyes. Not even moonless nights were this dark.

 _Oh no…_ He thought, feeling his heart in his throat as he frantically searched for an exit. _What's happening?_ He wandered, putting his arms out in front of him to feel out for whatever was before him. His hand hit a wall. Atsushi stopped, blinking. He carefully followed the wall until he found a corner.

Atsushi was in a box, some big metal thing. The world rocked around him. _Am I on a boat or something?_ He tripped over something on the floor, and slammed into the wall. He yelped as his head banged against cold metal. He sat down for a moment, nursing the painful bump on his forehead.

A loud creak echoed off the metallic walls, letting dusk light flood the box too quickly. Atsushi jumped to his feet, his head pounding, his eyes burning from the sudden exposure to the light. He put a hand over his eyes to shield them.

"Looks like you're finally awake," a hoarse voice came from the black clad figure in front of him.

Atsushi blinked at the light and the harshness of the man's voice, trying for a minute to recall where he'd heard the voice before. He must have had an encounter with him before, but he couldn't quite place where he'd heard him. It couldn't have been long ago.

 _Did I meet him last night?_ Atsushi thought frantically. Then he realized how little he actually remembered of the previous night.

…

 _There was nowhere to go, but he was used to that by now. Atsushi slowly grew accustomed to the streets after being thrown out of his orphanage. His new lifestyle wasn't kind, but he managed to find a few silver linings._

 _He didn't get nails driven through his feet, or red hot pokers against his abdomen, or shackles on his wrists and ankles._

 _On the streets, he was alone. On the streets, he was free._

But what good is that? _He asked himself as he felt his stomach digest itself._ What good is that when I'm going to starve to death out here? _The hunger was allconsuming. It gnawed at him and leached away his energy._

 _The moon wasn't even up yet, and Atsushi found himself getting settled under a large tree near the outskirts of town. He wondered how long it would be before he managed to eat again or sleep under a roof._

Sleeping indoors again is just wistful thinking right now. _He turned on his side, trying to imagine the grass and dirt as some sort of mattress and the leaves as something resembling a blanket._

 _He let his mind wander. What would he do when the cold set in?_

 _Looking at the situation rationally, it would be a miracle if he even survived that long. The truth of his own mortality made him tremble. By the time winter rolled around, he'd likely have died of starvation or at the claws of some animal._

"The world would be a better place if you died in a ditch somewhere!"

 _He flinched at the very memory of those words._

 _Atsushi took a deep breath in._ I'm not going to just die… I'll prove them wrong. _He decided with all the fervor he could muster. He resolved to find a way to stay alive. He would… He_ would. _When he was able to._

…

"How did I get here?" He asked, his voice trembling more than he wanted to admit. Then, in an even more timid voice. "Who are you?"

The stranger blinked. "You mean to tell me you don't remember what happened while you were transformed?" For a moment, his eyes had a slight curiosity. Then it vanished with a cold mutter of, "It's not my problem." He coughed into his fist. "I am Akutagawa of the Port Mafia."

Atsushi's mouth went dry and he backed away a few steps. "The Port...Mafia," he echoed dumbly. He tripped over his own feet, falling over and scrambling further away from his captor.

"A very important person placed a price tag on your head, Jinko." Akutagawa looked uninterested in his own summary. "The Mafia wants to collect on the reward."

 _Jinko?_

"There's got to be a mistake," Atsushi choked out. "I'm not anyone special. Uh… You got the wrong-"

"There's no mistake," Akutagawa insisted. He pressed a hand against his abdomen as though trying to apply pressure to a wound. "I know that for sure now. You're a savage tiger in the moonlight." Atsushi's legs shook and he braced a hand against a wall of his cage. The tiger… The beast that had ravaged the orphanage… It'd been him? _No, that's impossible. That can't-_ Breathing no longer came easily to him.

Akutagawa glanced at the sky, oblivious to Atsushi's panic attack. "Speaking of which…" His voice trailed off. "Higuchi!" He called impatiently.

"I got it," a blond woman replied as she ran out from behind a stack of crates. She was holding a strange silver ring. Atsushi squinted at it. There was something on the inside of it. Something pointed… He got a sinking feeling, realizing that _thing_ was meant for him.

An inky tendril shot forward and wrapped around his wrist. He yelped, meeting resistance when he tried to pull away. Another tendril caught his other wrist. Atsushi writhed against them, but he was in no way strong enough to fight them off. His feet slid against the floor as the _things,_ the tendrils, pushed him backwards and held him in place.

The woman- Higuchi- stepped forward.

"No. No. No. No…" He muttered breathlessly when he realized that _thing_ was a collar. It was a thing someone would put on an animal. Not a human, not another person.

Higuchi got closer to him, her hands undoing the clasp on the collar so she could put it around his neck. His struggling intensified with every step the woman took. All too soon, she was next to him, putting razor edged spears close to his neck. He squirmed desperately. Higuchi glanced back to Akutagawa and tilted her head toward Atsushi.

 _That can't be good._

Akutagawa clicked his tongue and sent another tendril through his leg, right above his left knee. Pain blossomed above his kneecap. Muscles torn apart, blood staining his bluish gray pants, he screamed. The sound of pain echoed off the metallic walls. The pain didn't come to an end after Akutagawa retracted the weird ability.

His back arched when he felt spikes brush his skin. Atsushi crumpled to his knees, his legs too weak to support his weight. Higuchi fastened the contraption around his neck, ignoring how much their captive trembled and begged. Something on it clicked into place.

It hurt. The spikes dug into his skin, and the collar itself was suffocating. Tears rose to his eyes as he whimpered and squirmed against Akutagawa's strange power.

His wrists were released as soon as Higuchi stepped out of the box and stood with perfect posture beside Akutagawa. Atsushi rolled around on the floor, trying to loosen the collar. There was no give. "Get it off," he begged. "Please…" He convulsed as his struggle pushed some of the spikes deeper into his skin. Blood started to flow from his neck.

"I'll be good," he whined as though he was back in the orphanage, his left leg lying uselessly as he dragged himself forward. "I won't put up any resistance. Just get it off."

Akutagawa shrugged, seeming to have no interest in talking to their captive. "You're already on the boat. It's not like what you do will matter" Then, he paused tilting his head as he looked at the huge, bleeding gash on Atsushi's leg. "Besides, I doubt you'd get very far on that leg. I'd recommend applying pressure on that, by the way." He looked on him with emotionless eyes before tapping Higuchi's shoulder and leaving Atsushi to struggle with his collar. The opening shut, and some latch slid into place on the exterior.

Atsushi blinked, his eyes burning from the sudden darkness. His injured leg refused to hold his weight, so he sat awkwardly on the ground for a minute. He felt like his brain had been stuffed with cotton. Shaking hands went to cover his wound, pressing down on it to stop the bleeding. The blood had already clotted and dried. He pulled his hands away from the injury and buried his face in them.

Hours passed, and slowly, a _gonizingly,_ he gave up in his fight against the collar. His breathing slowed, and he curled up in the corner of his cage.

 _It hurts…_

Moving only made it hurt more. He wasn't capable of picking any locking mechanism. There wasn't anything to use to bust the door open, and even if he could… He was surrounded by water, had no idea which way was land, and would pass out from exhaustion on the way.

…

The night was the worst.

Claws seemed to tear at his stomach from the inside as he stared up at the moon. It was as Akutagawa said. He was a beast under the moonlight, despite the fact that he was in complete darkness. The beast must have sensed the full moon that gave the sea a gentle glow. Atsushi's hands shook as he was fully aware of his hands seizing and becoming mangled, feline claws. He couldn't see his own hands, but he felt it. He felt it so vividly. His bones were breaking and reshaping themselves into something that was not human.

He grew. He thrashed, clawing at the walls that made him feel like he was suffocating. The pain that put him through was about the equivalent to having his nails torn off. Something dragged him away from reality.

Then it stopped. The spikes pushed further into his neck. Atsushi cried out in pain as he began to shrink back to his human form.

They were right… He was something scary and less than a human.

How many had he killed without even knowing it?

Atsushi raked his fingers through his hair, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes. He felt tears wet his hands. Breaths came out in shallow gasps. He was desperate for oxygen. Spikes drew blood with every breath he took.

 _It hurts…_

There was a loud creak again. Atsushi looked up, feeling every drop of blood that trickled down his neck.

"Huh," Akutagawa murmured as he observed him from outside of the cage. "Your buyer said that would happen." Atsushi staggered to the wall near Akutagawa. He braced himself against it like a condemned man.

"Please take it off," he gasped, working his fingers into the spaces between the spikes. "I can't _breath."_ Tears formed at the corners of his eyes. The collar was almost worse than the orphanage. "This'll kill me," he cried. If they went through the trouble of dragging his limp body all the way back to their cargo ship, they probably would want to keep him alive.

"If it hasn't killed you already, it won't kill you now." He squinted at Atsushi's leg, which was mostly healed, but he didn't feel the need to comment on it. Akutagawa glanced at a strip of land on the horizon, which was hard to see in the darkness. His eyes were like the iron walls of Atsushi's cell. Hard, cold, and unrelenting. Atsushi stopped struggling for a moment to follow Akutagawa's eyes. "We'll be landing soon." He looked at Atsushi as if he was rotting corpse. "Make the most of your time here before we hand you over."

That last comment made Atsushi collapse against the cage wall.

He'd been struggling to stay alive.

But he'd been free.

Every day had been even more of a challenge, and sometimes he doubted that he would see tomorrow.

But he'd had his freedom.

Atsushi started shaking again, a deep feeling of loss gnawing at his chest. He wiped away persistent tears with trembling hands; this time, they weren't brought on by the painful collar.

…

The voyage lasted another hour or so. It could have been more, it could have been less. Atsushi didn't care how long it was. He understood what was coming, and he dreaded it even more with every breath he took, with every stab he received from the collar.

The world seemed to go blank to him. He wasn't sleeping, but he wasn't quite awake either. The boy was too wrapped up in his thoughts and storm of emotions to do more than stare into the darkness of his prison. Seeing nothing, and no longer feeling the rocking of the boat beneath him.

"Master Fitzgerald, please don't go in there! H-He could be dangerous," a voice said, drawing Atsushi back to the present. The door got thrown open with a tell tale groan. Atsushi scrambled back as far away from the door as physically possible.

"Nonsense," replied a man-Fitzgerald- who stood at the threshold of Atsushi's prison, though his prisoner could only make out his figure. The boy blinked a few more times as his surroundings grew clearer. Like a clear black and white illustration, he could see the outlines and the fine details. Fitzgerald made a gesture with his fingers before a timid looking woman quietly placed a lantern in his hand. He held it up, casting light onto Atsushi's figure, nearly blinding the boy in the process. "He has the collar on and looks half starved." The man was well dressed and had an entitled look in his eyes. "Furthermore, I paid for him, so I do not believe I should be told what to do with him."

 _Oh..._ Atsushi thought, the numbness he'd felt fading into fear. _He's the buyer._ He started to shy back again, only to be trapped between the corner and the rich man. Seeing Fitzgerald-the _buyer_ \- made the whole nightmare he was living more real.

The man knelt to Atsushi's level and grabbed the boy's chin before he could try to run or curl in on himself. His grip was bruising. Fitzgerald seemed to look him up and down before tilting Atsushi's chin up so he could see the damage the collar had done. He gave a hum of approval, which made Atsushi shudder.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, his hand still holding Atsushi's chin. "My new gladiator."

 _Gladiator?_

Atsushi's blood turned to ice. He sat there, frozen. The fear must have shown on his face because Fitzgerald smirked. His already painful hold on Atsushi's chin tightened further. His jaw felt moments away from shattering. Not knowing what else to do, he brought up a fist and knocked the hand away. Atsushi put on the fiercest glare that he could muster.

The man blinked.

Atsushi immediately regretted his action as he sensed an oncoming punishment, but his buyer chuckled. "For a moment I was worried I'd made a bad investment, but it appears as though you do still have some fire left in you," he said, rising to his feet and grabbing Atsushi by the collar. The spikes bit into his skin, making him bleed more. He screamed, yelling out in pain as more and more blood poured down his neck, further staining his shirt and skin. The more he writhed, the worse it got. "However, I don't tolerate insolence. Behave yourself."

He released him, letting him gasp and wheeze and whimper on the floor of his cage. Atsushi stayed there for a minute before forcing himself to lift up his face. He blinked as a generous sum of money was placed in Higuchi's hands.

She nodded and gestured to Atsushi. "He's all yours."

 _No…_

 _No, no, no, no, no!_

There was an opening, slight as it was, just a space between Fitzgerald and Higuchi and anyone else who was there.

 _If I can just…_ His head pounded. Atsushi squinted through the pain and swallowed hard. _If I can just make it…_ He could hide or run, get the stupid collar off somehow. After that, he had no idea, but he'd figure something out.

Slowly, silently, he got to his feet.

He never was athletic, but overall he was light on his feet. Maybe, just maybe, he could escape.

His sore muscles shook as he tensed them, getting ready to run.

Atsushi never managed to take a step. A fist collided into his abdomen, trusting up into his rib cage. It forced the air from his lungs, making him spew up saliva and bile. He hardly knew what hit him as he found himself on his hands and knees, coughing up fluid that burned his throat.

Fitzgerald's fingers tangled into his hair and yanked his head up. Atsushi flinched and clawed at his hand, desperate to get away from him. He truly felt like a cornered _animal._ He'd been hunted and trapped as though he was something less than a human. Atsushi couldn't, _couldn't_ keep feeling like that. Being treated as something subhuman was not unfamiliar to him, but that didn't mean he was willing to just accept such abuse again. So, he put up something resembling a fight.

"Fighting back now, are we?" He questioned with a smooth voice. Fitzgerald threw Atsushi to the ground and slammed his foot onto the boy's sternum, making him cough up more burning fluids. "I recommend saving that for the arena, tiger," the man said as he ground the ball of his foot into Atsushi's chest.

 _Can't breath..._ Between Fitzgerald's foot pressing down on his chest and the wretched collar, taking in oxygen was a struggle.

Fitzgerald moved closer, taking his foot off of Atsushi's chest. He was on his knees beside the boy. Through the fear in his eyes, Atsushi managed a pathetic glare. Fitzgerald's hand shot out and grabbed Atsushi's forehead, his fingers digging into his temples. "Understand this, boy," the man hissed. "I paid seven billion to get you." His palm obscured Atsushi's vision, and for a moment, he was grateful. He didn't want to imagine the scary expression on Fitzgerald's face. "In other words, you _belong_ to blood is my _property._ Do you understand that?"

Tears welled up in Atsushi's eyes, and he knew that Fitzgerald could feel them on his hand. He knew because he could hear the smirk in the man's voice. "It seems you do understand me then. Good." His fingers slid off of Atsushi's temples and ran through silverish hair. "Keep in mind," he growled as he looked down into the boy's moist eyes. "I won't be so kind next time I have to correct you."

The human body can only take so much pain, hunger, and exhaustion.

The human mind can only take so much fear, despair, and desperation.

Atsushi was at his limits in both mind and body. It could have been the hunger or it could have been the scared racing of his heart that brought his vision to a haze. Maybe he'd been pushing himself to stay awake for too long. Maybe he'd felt too much distress for too long. He didn't know as he felt the world fade away and disappear into darkness.

 **Well, that was the beginning of this fanfic. I really hope it becomes something great.**

 **Please** **review** **!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hiiiiii!**

 **It has been way too long since I've posted anything for this fanfiction (or any fanfiction for that matter)... Physiology and Microbiology, as well as my other classes, have taken over my life lately.**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

"Have we gotten any word about the boy Fitzgerald's picked up?"

Alcott had mentioned something of a new gladiator, but she never told where he was or what he was, and if she didn't tell them, they must not have needed to know. However, the curiosity was strong.

Twain smirked. "I saw him." He grinned boastfully.

Montgomery straightened her tunic before looking at him. "How could you have seen him?" She asked. "He's been isolated since he got here and Fitzgerald has been awful tight lipped about it."

Steinbeck raised an eyebrow. "Twain, you really think we're going to believe you on this?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes, there's no reason for you not to believe me." His words sounded plenty sincere, but his eyes were mischievous. "Come on, guys," he said in a innocent tone. "Would I ever lie to you?"

The question drew a mirthless laugh from Montgomery and a sardonic smile from Steinbeck. "Yes," the girl said without a moment of hesitation. When Twain opened his mouth to give a counter argument, she continued. "When I came here, you told me you were the top gladiator and that I was supposed to call you 'Master Twain.' You somehow got Steinbeck to muck out the stables when that was _your_ job. I still don't know how you did that, by the way. And you probably cheated in that bet so you could keep your stuff in Anne's room."

Twain smiled in a way that almost made him seem good natured. "Well, the first one was your own fault because you were so gullible." He ran a hand through his hair. "Those other things happened a long time ago."

"Last one was last week," Steinbeck muttered.

Twain sighed impatiently. "Practically water under the bridge, guys. Doesn't matter." He squinted at both of them. "Aren't you curious about the new gladiator?"

Steinbeck sighed, getting tired of listening to his teammate's rambling. "We can ask him questions when he joins us."

"And how long do you think that will take?" A thoughtful pause. "It's been a week now and no one, other than me, has seen him."

Montgomery and Steinbeck glanced at each other. The older of the two sighed crossed his arms. "Just because you say it doesn't mean we have to believe you." He had the smallest spark of interest in his eyes. "So, what about him?"

"Okay," Twain began, obviously excited to have their eyes on him. "So, it was well past midnight, and I snuck out of my room. He was-"

"Why did you sneak out of your room?" Montgomery questioned.

"Not important," Twain replied, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Anyways, I saw him." He shrugged theatrically. "He's a twig. Looks like he can't raise a blade to save his life." A pause. "And he was crying, I think… Or he was about to cry."

Steinbeck's mouth twisted into a frown. "Doesn't sound like Fitzgerald to buy a weakling," he muttered, actually beginning to put stock in Twain's story. His eyes widened a bit as he thought harder about it. "Do you have any idea of what his ability is?"

His teammate shook his head, his face turning serious. "I can't say for sure." Twain grinned, knowing the next piece of information would be of great interest. "But he was nearly covered with dried blood and had a collar around his neck." He shrugged, smirking at Montgomery and Steinbeck's thoughtful faces. "Still don't believe me?"

-/-/-

Atsushi sat on his bed, his knees pulled to his chest. He spent most of his time like that when he wasn't being forced to train with Hawthorne or Mitchelle.

He'd adjusted to the collar, somewhat… It still pricked into his neck and stung when it tore into his skin. He tried to convince himself that everything was okay. He constantly tried to remind himself of how hard being on his own had been, and how hungry he'd felt and the meager amounts of food he'd managed to scrape together.

But this…

This didn't feel much better. No matter how much he told himself it was, no matter how much he squinted in search of a bright side, he knew that his life had taken a turn for the worst.

According to Hawthorne, he'd been there for about a week. It'd felt like a month. He wondered if time would feel different now. Would weeks feel like months, and days like weeks? Atsushi supposed that spending half the time in a tiny cell, and spending the other half of the time getting tossed around like a ragdoll would mess with one's perspective of time.

He hadn't seen much of Fitzgerald since getting dragged back with him. That was the one thing he was relatively comfortable with. He didn't feel a need to see that man ever again, though that was likely impossible since Fitzgerald _owned_ him.

It was a struggle not to feel lonely. It shouldn't have been that unfamiliar to him. Atsushi had practically been on his own for his whole life, but even then, there had been _people._ He'd seen people; he had not been in a cramped chamber that only had room for a hard mattress. These days, he only saw his two mentors and glimpses of a man he absolutely despised.

The door screamed as it opened. Atsushi flinched, pushing himself further back into his corner. An exasperated sigh came from the door.

"Aren't you just a cheery soul," Michelle's voice commented dryly. Atsushi straightened, his teeth clenching slightly. She sighed boredly before ordering him to get out of his tiny cell. She didn't wear the clothes that were suited for combat as Atsushi normally saw her in.

"I thought Hawthorne was teaching today," he muttered, crawling off his cot.

"Yes, well," she began primly, stepping back to give Atsushi room to exit his cell. "I was told to pick you up. It's not my day to train you. Thank goodness." She sighed melodramatically. "You hardly respond to training, and we've seen nothing of your tiger since the last full moon."

Despite the obvious negative tone in Mitchell's voice, Atsushi was rather happy with the tiger's silence.

Well, happy wasn't quite the right word. Very few people could claim to be happy when they were forced into gladiatorial combat, stabbed with metal spikes on a collar that they couldn't take off, and shoved into a cramped space.

He was… satisfied with the tiger's silence.

That was closer to describing his feelings toward it, but it still didn't hit the nail on the head. In any case, Atsushi had bigger things to worry about than which word he could use to express his feelings.

Fitzgerald made it clear that he didn't want the tiger to keep quiet. The increasingly brutal training sessions got the point across.

They would push him. They'd push him until he had nothing left to fall back on but the tiger's raw power. The realization scared him even more than Fitzgerald scared him. It was all a process of trial and error to his owner and the other gladiators, and every trial forced Atsushi to pay a price.

According to a strategist in their group, Atsushi would involuntarily call upon his ability when he was under too much physical or mental stress, in the moonlight, or when his life was in danger. Quite often, Fitzgerald liked to try his luck with inflicting physical stress. It was hardly worse than the orphanage, but that hardly meant Atsushi could bear it well.

The whole thing was barely short of torture. They never gave him fatal injuries since he'd been so expensive to find and capture. The tiger healed his wounds overnight and he was forced to go through all of it again once the sun rose.

/-/-/

"If you could only transform, we'd hardly have a need for such brutal training," Hawthorne remarked as he gestured for Atsushi to try to attack him.

He obeyed, to some extent. His arms were still scrawny, and none of his attacks landed. Atsushi did not last long in that fight. The fight, if one could really call it that, ended with Atsushi in the dirt, blinking, still trying to piece together how he'd gotten there.

The man sighed, adjusting his glasses before offering a hand to Atsushi. They boy set his jaw stubbornly and pushed himself onto his feet on his own.

"You still feel the need to glare at me every time you get knocked down?" He questioned boredly. Atsushi didn't reply, he rarely did. "As I said when we started training, I'm following orders." Still no response. Hawthorne was clearly getting irritated with his silence and his expression, but he didn't raise a hand against Atsushi. He never hit him out of anger, he'd made that clear from the beginning. Hawthorne took a deep breath when Atsushi turned his head to the side. "Again."

/-/-/

"Still nothing?"

"Unfortunately so, Sir."

Fitzgerald made a sound that was something between a sigh and a groan. "Is he rebellious during training?"

"Rather reluctant," Mitchell said, straightening her dress. "But I'd hardly call him rebellious." She tilted her head as they watched Hawthorne's training session with the boy. "Glares quite a bit, stays silent."

Fitzgerald laced his fingers. "Hmmm…" He turned to Mitchell. "Do you have any ideas?"

She shrugged. "Why would I? I'm just training him, furthermore, I don't particularly care." Very few people had the audacity to speak to the man that way, but he allowed it. She was one of the few people he had an ounce of respect for.

"Pretend you do care for a minute."

The threat was clear in his voice.

"I'm not a very good actor, but I can pretend," she stated cooly. Then, she pressed her lips together in thought. "Generally, I believe that as long as Hawthorne and I have to train him, we will not be getting the best results." A pause. "How exactly did Alcott suggest we bring out the tiger again?"

/-/-/

Atsushi stared at the ground as he knelt in the dirt. That knot in his stomach tightened and twisted. He could feel Fitzgerald's eyes on him. Cold but burning, they bore into him. He couldn't suppress the fearful shudders that ran through his body.

"So," he began. Atsushi flinched. "You've been getting nowhere in your training." Atsushi bit his lip, fully expecting to be hit or kicked. "Can you give me a reason why?"

He didn't say anything. His mouth had gone dry.

"Well?"

"I- I don't know…" He murmured, too terrified to raise his voice above a whisper. His voice sounded even smaller than it had when he'd been a child.

"Hmmm…" Fitzgerald's voice came from above his head. "We'll try something new today." Atsushi began to tremble. He felt fingers near his neck, and he pulled away when he felt a feather light touch on his collar. It hurt, pushing the needles deeper into his skin.

Then for a moment, the pain of the collar's spikes vanished. He raised his head excitedly for a millisecond, only to put it down again as a familiar pain shot through his flesh. However, it was lighter now.

Atsushi looked up, raising his fingers closer to the collar.

"Don't think you're getting rewarded," Fitzgerald stated, grabbing Atsushi's hair. "You've done nothing to deserve a reward." He pulled Atsushi up, ordering him to get to his feet.

The knife stung when it entered his side.

Something inside him broke. It may have been bone, it may have been an organ. But he was certain that _something_ had broken.

Fitzgerald held him up by his hair.

"Why?" Atsushi squeaked as he squirmed in the man's grasp. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes.

It hurt so much. It burned and stung and tore and ripped.

"Transform now," a demanding voice ordered into his ear.

He couldn't. Not on command.

"Now," Fitzgerald repeated, giving his hair another sharp tug. "I stabbed through a kidney." He half threw Atsushi away from him in disgust. "You won't live to see the sunset unless you call for the tiger's strength."

The boy convulsed, feeling his blood leaving him, feeling his extremities getting cold from blood loss.

Was Fitzgerald really going to let him die like that? Bleeding out pathetically on the floor? Not once seeing battle?

It sure looked like it.

His vision blurred with tears, and he swallowed with a dry throat. Desperately, he did something he never believed he'd ever do. _T-Tiger… Please…. Don't let- Don't let me… die. I'll l-let you take over… Go ahead...Just d-d-don't l-let me..._ The words were quiet in his own head. Panic began to subside, but not enough for him to stop struggling. Nothing was healing, blood kept leaking out of him.

 _I can't- I don't want to-_

He couldn't hold onto a single thought for longer than a second.

And just as suddenly as the blade had stabbed through his side, he started to feel… _warm._ The heat swelled inside of him, burning at his innards and tearing through him.

He roared as strength and rage surged through his body.

He roared just before everything went dark.

/-/-/

Like before, everything hurt when Atsushi woke up. He wasn't in his cell. He couldn't feel the hard mattress underneath him.

His neck hurt. The collar had been tightened while he was out of it, and it felt tighter than it'd ever been. Spikes dug deep into his skin, deeper and deeper with every second.

Atsushi reached for his throat only to find that his hands wouldn't move. He opened his eyes, blinking in the light. His hands twitched in steel shackles. Or… No. They were some form of shackles. They were more like hands. Huge wooden hands with long, branch-like fingers wrapped around him pinning his arms to his sides. He blinked, the darkness burning his eyes. It was like he was in that box again, only this time he was bound.

And those hands… Those hands were absolutely suffocating. He grunted, struggling against the hands, kicking frantically. The giant hands didn't tighten around him, but they didn't loosen either. He still squirmed, desperately to get out of the grip.

It didn't take him long to get tired out. The collar's spikes made him bleed, the movement made his muscles hurt. His lungs hurt too, causing his breaths to come out in a pained whine. Atsushi heard the tiger growl, not only that, he felt its rage and pain fill his veins like blood. It paced in his mind, low growls erupting from its throat.

"Oh, shut up," he muttered frustratedly. An eyebrow twitched. "You're the reason I'm in this mess."

Another angry growl.

This time, the boy growled back. "I don't care what you say!" He yelled, hands shaking with rage. Then he murmured, "I'm just as trapped as you are." Atsushi writhed against the restraints again as though to emphasize his point. Then, he let his head drop as much as the collar would allow. The tiger went quiet, probably just as exhausted as Atsushi.

"You must be insane," a girl's voice said.

He froze.

The girl stood in a doorway that he hadn't noticed during his struggle. "Who are you?" He managed, hoping his voice sounded less exhausted and frightened as he felt. Then a question that felt more important. "Where am I?"

She clicked her tongue boredly. "We're in Anne's room," she stated as though it was the most obvious explanation ever. He didn't understand, and his face must have shown it.

The hands around him brought him closer to the doorway, making him flinch from the movement. He was face to face with her now. She must have heard him gulp.

"You're shorter than I thought you'd be," the girl muttered, her face thoroughly unimpressed. She was a little shorter than him, but he couldn't be sure since he was being held up by the giant, strange hands. The girl squinted at him, and he knew that she was observing all of it. The collar, the ragged shirt, the dirt streaked face. She was taking it all in, seeing it all. Atsushi felt his face reddened, heat crawling into his skin.

Though she wasn't all that better. He skin was clean and her clothes in better condition than his, but he could see the scars. He could see that lingering pain in her eyes.

"Uhh…" He managed after a minute. "Who- who are you?" He squirmed in the against his weird restraints. "What happened?"

Her eyes flashed surprise, suddenly giving her a softer appearance. "I'm Lucy Maud Montgomery," she mumbled, stepping back so the hand holding his body released him. He swayed on his feet when he stood. "You really don't remember anything?"

He felt sick. "No…"

Montgomery sighed before turning her back on him. "To answer your first question, this is place is my ability."

Atsushi took a moment to look around. He couldn't make out any actual walls or a ceiling. They were surrounded by bright pink. Balloons and nicely wrapped presents were littered everywhere. Somewhere, a little distance off, was a huge string puppet sort thing. It had an embroidered mouth and button eyes.

He heard Montgomery sigh. "I'm going to have to bring us back… Fitzgerald will start to suspect something if we stay here too long."

Atsushi flinched at the mention of his name. "Can we not?" He squeaked.

She looked him over with serious eyes again. Eyes that seemed to say " _What exactly did they do to you?"_ Atsushi looked away.

Montgomery glared at him threateningly. "Before that happens," she ordered in a low voice. "Don't mention us talking. I was told not to speak to you at all."

"Then why did you talk to me?" Atsushi asked in a whisper to match her low voice.

She took a step toward him, her glare growing more fierce. He took a step back, his shoulder blade brushing a large black door behind him. "I was curious. All of us have been. Only Twain has seen you, and that was doubtful to begin with."

"Wha-"

"No time," she said, putting a finger to her lips.

"But-"

"Later."

Before he try to begin another sentence, the world went dark. Not like dark like he fainted, more like the kind of dark of stepping out of the sun and being completely blind for a moment. He blinked, the world not quite feeling solid under his feet.

He was back in his cell, standing on his hard mattress. Montgomery pushed past him to beat her fist against the door. The door slid open, and she slipped out, but not before giving him an absolutely withering glare. Atsushi bit his tongue and kept quiet.

"Well, this was a productive day," a too familiar voice mused. A hand reached into the room to pull Atsushi out. He stumbled out, still too dazed to fight back.

Fitzgerald stared down at him with a smile that sent shivers down Atsushi's spine. "It appears we finally have our strategy."

That statement made the boy's stomach twist, and he felt the tiger's rage ripple through him. Atsushi's mouth twisted into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed without his permission. The man in front of him sighed and brought his hand up to the boy's face; Atsushi's body tensed up, fully knowing what he had coming. The hard slap across his face was no surprise. Even so, his eyes watered.

"I'm sick of that expression," Fitzgerald threatened in a hushed tone. He tightened his grip on Atsushi's arm, watching his face contort in discomfort before appearing to get bored. Fitzgerald shoved him, sending him stumbling backward into Hawthorne. Atsushi blinked at the man behind him. He hadn't noticed Hawthorne had been standing there the whole time. "See that he gets something filling to eat," Fitzgerald ordered, causing Atsushi to fidget. "I want him to recover a bit more for his debut in the arena."

Atsushi's stomach filled with dread. He hardly felt Hawthorne's hand around his wrist. His eyes dulled as the man dragged him down a corridor.

He was hungry.

But that was nothing different… He was always hungry.

Yet, he didn't feel like eating. The bowl of rice in front of him wasn't as appetizing as it should have been. Even with the chicken, pickled plums, and shredded nori mixed in with it, he didn't want it. When he ate some of it with Hawthorne's prompting, the food tasted like ash in his mouth.

Atsushi didn't know precisely why he was so scared. He assumed it was just the fear of the pain. He understood enough to know that the pain and fear and rage led him to beg the tiger to take over his mind and body.

He didn't like the feeling. He didn't like the burning that took over his body when the tiger took over.

He didn't like the knife in his side.

He hated the big dark spaces in his memory where the tiger did goodness knows what.

And he'd have to go through it all again in less than twenty-four hours.

 **There. I made him suffer more. That's one way to work out my seemingly never-ending stress. I hope you all liked this chapter. It was a bit disjointed, but I feel I got my points across.**

 **The next chapter will likely have Dazai, so I look forward to that.**

 **Please review!**

 **Thank you so much for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, everyone! Happy end of 2018! I figured that I should post one more chapter for this year. Enjoy!**

His first fight passed, and he had little to no memory of it. There may have been some recollection of it, but it was hazy. It was the sort of thing where he'd get memories from a dream or nightmare, and not be sure of whether or not it'd actually happened.

The only thing he remembered, like _actually, indubitably_ remembered, was waking up on the checkered floor of Anne's room. Atsushi's bones and joints groaned as he forced them to move a little.

"You look like death," Montgomery murmured, sitting a distance off, eating an orange. Atsushi ran a hand through his hair, which he found to be full of tangled knots. "Do you remember anything this time?" The girl tilted her head, red braids swaying to the side.

"Only what happened right before," Atsushi said with a groan as he pushed himself into sitting position. "Maybe bits and pieces in between, but it feels like it was all a weird dream." He felt like there was a stone in his stomach. Heavy, hard, and painful. His hand travelled to his temple and he massaged the spot with his thumb for a moment. "What happened?"

Montgomery scooted closer to him so talking would be easier. "You transformed, the audience loved it, you fought with someone with superhuman strength.

Atsushi put his face in his hands for a moment, still groggy, still trying to open his eyes a bit more. There was another reason as well. The story the girl told… It was his story, his story from a few hours ago that he couldn't even remember. And it gave him a scary feeling. He was so heavily connected to it, but he was also so detached from it.

"If it makes you feel any better, he gave you a _beating_ before you won."

To a minute degree, that did make Atsushi feel better. At least the battle hadn't been one sided. "Is he alright?" Atsushi asked.

"I wouldn't worry too much. The collar was starting to weaken you by the end of the match, and there wasn't a lot of blood when they pulled him out of the arena." She passed a sliver of bright orange fruit to him as though to strengthen the reassurance. "He'll be fine."

Atsushi accepted the orange slice and forced a smile, the first smile he'd managed since waking up in the metal box and being forced into a painful collar. "That's a relief."

Montgomery tucked her legs under herself and sighed. "Same as yesterday… We'll have to go back soon."

"I figured," he replied, swallowing hard, which was difficult thanks to the collar.

"Hey," Montgomery began, folding her hands into her lap. "What's your name? I realized last night that they only ever call you 'boy' and 'child' and 'tiger,' but you have a real name, right?"

Atsushi felt something warm in his chest, it was gentler than the heat he'd felt from the tiger's power, and a hundred times more comfortable. "It's Atsushi. Atsushi Nakajima."

Something about telling her his name made him feel a bit less lonely. It was partially because he realized that she was someone like him. She was also lonely, also trapped, also hurt.

The feeling didn't fade after she deactivated her ability and they found themselves in the cramped cell he called a bedroom. It didn't even leave after she nodded a goodbye and left him alone in the cell. He sat alone, thinking about it for an hour or so; there was little else to think about and little else he _wanted_ to think about. For the first time in his memory, he had something resembling a friend.

/-/-/

" _You understand, don't you?" Fitzgerald hissed in his ear as he pushed the dagger into his hand._

 _Atsushi didn't respond; his mouth had gone dry, his hands had gone cold, and his eyes had gone dark. The dagger shook under his curled fingers. It was cold and surprisingly heavy._

 _A hand grasped his chin so he was forced to stare into his owner's eyes. "Am. I. Understood?" He said slowly as if Atsushi wasn't intelligent enough to put the words together when they were spoken at an average pace. The boy nodded. "Repeat my instructions back to me."_

 _He didn't want to. The instructions scared him. Fitzgerald's hand crept closer to his next and he yelped._

" _I go out, I wait a moment, I-I…" He swallowed hard at this point. "I s-stab myself with the knife."_

" _Then?" Fitzgerald prompted._

" _I let the tiger take over," Atsushi said, his voice below a whisper._

" _Good," the man said, skimming a hand over Atsushi's hair. He came closer, putting his mouth near Atsushi's ear. "And if you don't follow those instructions, boy, I will twist that very dagger into you gut and I'll make sure it hurts." His hand went for the collar and he tugged on it so that spikes dug into Atsushi's neck._

 _The terrified and pained gasp made the man chuckle._

" _I'm glad we can understand each other, tiger."_

 _He stood there, hand in Atsushi's hair, waiting for the gates to open so he could send his new gladiator into the arena._

 _Atsushi waited as well. He waited for the chance to run from Fitzgerald without getting pulled back by his hair. He waited for the moment to let his muscles relax if only for a moment._

 _He bolted the second the gate was high enough for him to fit through._

 _The crowd roared at his entry into the arena, and the beat of his heart quickened. He almost wanted to turn around and take his chances with Fitzgerald, but the reasonable part of him said not to. They all stared at him like an animal at a zoo, and it made him fidget. He wanted out. He wanted to run. His hands shook around the knife he held._

 _Atsushi's eyes wandered back to the tunnel he'd come through. Fitzgerald met his eyes. The man smiled cruelly, making a stabbing motion. The boy winced, the knife growing colder and harder in his hand._

 _His opponent stood across the arena, a blond boy with freckles dotting his nose. Despite where they stood, he had a spark in his eyes and his mouth was turned into grin. The smile on his face wasn't cruel or calculating like most of the smiles he was used to seeing. He was actually_ smiling.

 _Atsushi swallowed hard, sensing Fitzgerald's eyes on him. Every threat Fitzgerald held over him rang in his ears. His hands started shaking so badly that he nearly dropped the dagger._

 _The world slowed, the threats in his mind grew in louder and louder, echoing off the walls of his brain. He shut his eyes tightly and raised the blade._

 _It entered cleanly between two of his ribs, tearing a breathless scream from his throat. The audible gasp ran through the crowd as he crumpled to his knees, trying to get air into his lungs… or one working lung. His breaths were ragged like torn flesh._

 _Black spots crawled in front of his vision, but he could still see the concern written on blond boy's face. Blood gushed from his wound, and he felt sick._

 _He hardly felt that familiar surge of power as the world faded out of view._

/-/-/

Atsushi didn't remember any of his fights. He could hardly recall the feeling the arena's floor beneath his feet. Every fight always started with his vision going dark and ended with him waking up in Anne's room.

After awhile, he got used to it. He adjusted to the feeling of sore limbs and the blood under his fingernails. He got used to the empty feeling in his chest.

And he knew that he'd killed someone at some point. He couldn't remember the details of that fight, but the signs were clear enough. It was in Montgomery's silence, in her sad eyes and pallid skin. More evidence was in Fitzgerald's sour mood and complaints about how much money Atsushi must have been costing him. The tightness of the collar was another indication.

He'd _killed_ someone. And he couldn't even remember it.

That single idea led to several sleepless night and panic attacks. His chest hurt, more than the emptiness he'd grown accustomed to.

His chest hurt…

The tight squeezing around his heart and the inadequate space in his lungs made it hard to breath or even think properly.

Somehow, the understanding of his situation truly crashed down on him after he'd bolted upright in bed.

He wasn't a gladiator. Gladiators were fighters, they may have lacked their freedom, but there was something undeniably different between him and the others. They had a little more interaction with each other and people outside of their group. They practiced together, they honed their skills, and he would assume they had some sort of hobbies. Atsushi was kept alone, left to his own devices in the dark, and only let out when he was needed. He didn't fight with a weapon, he simply turned into a tiger and woke up with blood stains on his clothes.

No, Atsushi was not a gladiator.

He was an animal. He was some exotic pet to be kept for the public's entertainment.

It took a long time for him to accept that, but eventually, the it all sunk in. It pressed down like a weight on his chest.

/-/-/

Atsushi stared at the man across the arena with dulled eyes. The guy was taller than the weretiger, but he didn't look like he had much muscle on him. On top of that, bandages snaked around his arms and neck.

Forcing him to fight an injured person seemed ruthless, even for Fitzgerald.

The boy took a deep breath in. It didn't matter who he was facing. It didn't matter how he felt about it. He stepped into the arena and drove the knife into his abdomen. Like always, he nearly collapsed from the pain before the searing power took over.

…

...

...But… He woke up…

Something that never happened… Fire seemed to consume his body.

He found himself in the middle of the arena, his feet not quite on the ground, and a man with impossibly cold eyes staring at him. His body temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees.

Atsushi fell, landing in a crouched position. He blinked rapidly. "Wha-" He began, beginning to rise, staring up at his opponent. His limbs were stiff with the shock.

A bandage clad fist connected with his stomach. He doubled over, gagging. The brown haired man didn't give him a chance to recover. The man kicked Atsushi in the ribs, which brought a crackling sound before punching him hard enough to throw him backward.

Atsushi struggled to his feet as he watched the man slowly, menacingly stalked toward him.

He was scared…

The numbness he'd developed over all those months of imprisonment and captivity faded fast. He backed away, breathing hard.

He was vulnerable. There was nothing to hide behind and no tiger to fight back. With one touch, the man had torn away his disguise, showing the cheering crowd what he really was.

Nothing more than a pitiful, scrawny child.

Atsushi turned to try to run, even though there was nowhere to take refuge. The man grabbed him by the collar and yanked him backward; the spikes bit into his skin. He yelped, trying desperately to get away, but he had no idea how to actually fight without the tiger's power.

The man slammed his foot down on Atsushi's chest, oblivious to his frantic squirming. The pressure shifted down to his abdomen, pushing down on his gut.

 _Can't breath…_

Atsushi clawed at the dirt floor. The pressure let up for a moment before it returned fivefold. Pain shot through his body. When he managed to open his eyes, he found the man's knee digging into his stomach, his face looming over him. Sensing what was coming next, Atsushi brought his arms into an "X" shape in front of his face, all too prepared for the punches.

His arms did next to nothing to protect his face.

One hit had him losing a tooth.

The second made him choke on his own blood.

The third made his vision blurry and his brain foggy.

The man's knee left Atsushi's stomach, letting the pain ease. It was too early to take a breath of relief. Hands latched onto his wrists. Something in the back of his mind screamed _danger!_ Atsushi's head lolled back to see both of his wrists captured by long, bony fingers.

The man pulled, and pain flared in Atsushi wrist. He didn't even bother to try to bite back a scream. Everything hurt too much to worry about what Fitzgerald would do or what the audience heard.

He was being dragged. Dirt and pebbles crept into his clothes, scraping his skin. He made a pathetic attempt to squirm out of his captor's grasp, but that didn't make any difference. The man continued to drag him along but tightened his grip slightly. "Stop it," he hissed as he shifted his grip on Atsushi's wrists.

Atsushi obeyed, his head was too jumbled and confused to put up a fight. His eyes closed and he let his head fall back as the man dragged him away like a wolf dragging away its prey.

 **Yep, ending 2018 with beating Atsushi to a pulp. (I used inspiration from Levi kicking Eren in** ** _Attack on Titan._** **)**

 **His life is really going to take a turn for the better in the next chapter (mostly). Thank you all so much for reading! Please review, all your reviews mean a lot to me!**

 **Have a great 2019! =D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello!**

 **I've wanted to post another chapter of this for so long, but it took forever to get it written and find time to post! I'm super excited to get another chapter out there.**

 **So... Here it is!**

 **=D**

The first thing Atsushi was aware of when the man released him was the feeling of hands all over him. Hands ghosting over his bruised and broken ribs. Hands holding him as he squirmed to get away. None of it hurt very much. Make no mistake, the touch was still painful, and wasn't gentle, but… There was nothing malicious about it.

He _writhed_ when fingers started prying his nearly unseeing eyes wide open. Words stuck in Atsushi's throat, he couldn't speak and he only made noises of protest.

Light flooded his vision, though there was nothing to see. His eyes were nearly useless, everything a huge, messy blur. Black spots and stars of light burst across his vision. He wasn't sure why; there hadn't been much damage to his eyes. Pain throbbed on the back of his head.

"Don't you think you overdid it a little?!" An angered voice hissed.

Atsushi felt hands cup the back of his head and gently raise it before lowering it onto someone's lap. He blinked blearily at the grainy splotches of colors above him. He struggled to get away, struggled to get to his feet before hands caught his bruised wrists again and shushed him. Atsushi quieted, closing his eyes and letting himself go limp.

"Hey, I was told to make it theatrical and I'm pretty sure I did a good job. I thought you would be happy with me for actually putting effort into something." He could recognize the voice of the man who had beaten him to a pulp and dragged him from the arena earlier.

"How bad is it?"

"Why are you asking me? I'm not a doctor!" Then,"But he's not looking great. Most likely a few broken ribs, concussion, and muscle trauma." Someone yanked his shirt up, making him yelp. "And it wouldn't surprise me if he had some internal bleeding."

"Everything's going to be alright," someone chimed in as a hand stroked his hair. "You're safe."

"Where's Yosano?"

"Take the collar off him at least. That can't be helping him."

"Yeah, I got it," said his former opponent. Then to Atsushi-or so Atsushi assumed, "Alright, tiger. Let's get this thing off you."

Hands tilted his head, forcing him to expose his neck. Atsushi's body twitched involuntarily.

"Hold still," a voice ordered.

He did, stilling without thinking. Then, he was only aware of an uncomfortable scraping feeling on the side of his neck.

He wanted to struggle. He wanted to say something, but every muscle was unresponsive. And he was tired, it took twice the effort to move at all.

Something near his ear made a small _click._ Atsushi stopped breathing for a moment, not daring to believe what he felt.

Then, he could only feel the slackening scrape of the collar's spikes on his skin. Finally, he felt nothing. He felt nothing in the place where he used to feel pain and suffocation. He started breathing again. Long, uneven gasps of air flood his lungs. It was more of just an experiment to see if it was all real. His breathing returned to normal after a minute.

"Well, I think that helped," another voice interjected.

He could feel his head gently lowered to the ground and heard footsteps retreating from his unmoving body. "He's all yours, Doctor."

"Great," a woman's voice said. She sounded much closer than he'd expected. "Let's get the treatment started."

Pain _tore_ through Atsushi's chest, breaking what ribs weren't already broken, slashing apart his organs like they were made of wet paper.

He didn't scream.

He couldn't. His lungs had collapsed, leaving him without air.

The world was fading, fading away. And he could feel it. He could feel his cells dying off one by one. His mind too, seemed to slip from his grasp. He heard a persistent ring in his ears. Too much pain. Too much confusion. Too much fear.

Death put its hands on him and he accepted it.

/-/-/

Waking up was a painful process.

The ache of the tiger's healing was absent, but _something_ still hurt. His eyes felt like they'd been welded shut. Atsushi wished he could stay there, go to sleep and never wake up. Maybe he could. Maybe this was just death, and he'd be in this state forever.

 _No..._ He corrected himself. _I'm not dead… It hurts too much._

Another few minutes of squirming and slowly moving his hands to his face to scrub away the haze.

"Glad to see you're awake," his former opponent's voice said.

Atsushi's body went rigid.

He clicked his tongue. "Come on," he groaned, his shadow falling over Atsushi. "Don't play dead on me. You're safe."

Keeping to his slow process, Atsushi opened his eyes reluctantly.

He could see clearly again, which was surprising to him. To some extent, he'd thought that his sight had been ruined forever.

Atsushi stared up at the gladiator whose eyes had been ice. Those eyes weren't so cold anymore.

Then, his gaze dropped to his lap when he realized that something felt off. Atsushi slowly, carefully raised his hands to his neck. The skin was unblemished as though he'd never had spikes dig into it. Atsushi's fingers stretched to touch the back of his neck. No scars, no bruises, no open cuts. Nothing.

"How long has it been since you've had that collar off?"

Atsushi tensed up, he'd forgotten that the man was there.

"I don't know," he muttered. "It's been a long time." His fingers continued to roam his neck, further confirming that everything was completely normal. Had that whole terrible time under Fitzgerald's thumb just been a longer terrible dream?

 _If it was all a dream, then why is this man still here?_

He froze again and looked up at the man. "Why am I here?'

"Well, that's a good question," he began. "It's a bit of a long answer though."

/-/-/

The idea of making the tiger an addition to the team came to them a month or so ago. It'd been the boy's debut. His power alone had been impressive, but that wasn't the only reason. The main reason was because of Kenji.

Kenji was normally such a lively person, always running around, smiling, staring at plants, or happily talking about cows. After that fight with the tiger, he'd gone quiet for a little while. A pensive expression had been etched into his face. It was concerning to say the least.

"You alright?" Tanizaki asked him eventually. "You seem… off."

"Was it Yosano's treatment?" Kunikida asked from across the table where he intensely scribbled in his notebook.

Kenji shook his head, still looking thoughtful and a bit… in pain. "No, that was bad, but…" His mouth twisted into a serious scowl. The expression didn't look quite right on his normally sunny face.

"Was the tiger that ferocious?"

His eyes widened as he realized what had been bothering him to this extent. "No…" He said slowly. His voice was much lower than it always had been. "I don't think he was ferocious."

"But he mauled you," Kunikida muttered, a bit concerned that Kenji would shrug off the fact that he'd been nearly torn apart by a tiger.

"I think he was just… scared and sad." Kenji bit his lip. "He didn't want to do that."

Kenji had always had something of a connection to animals. Or at least he liked them that much and had spent so much time with animals that he read animals better than he read people.

"That's nothing new," Dazai said boredly from the couch, where he'd been listening the whole time. "Not many gladiators go into the arena willingly." He closed his eyes again before heaving a sigh and adding. "The team we're on is a lot nicer than others, and we were lucky enough to be allowed to have a choice in the matter."

"Shouldn't you be doing something more important than lounging around?" Kunikida said, his words nearly drowned out by the grinding of his teeth.

Dazai waved a hand dismissively. "I accidently saw Yosano treating Kenji." He threw a melodramatic haunted look to his teammate. "I think I need some time to recover… I'm taking the week off for my mental health."

"Grow a spine," Kunikida replied, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he aggressively jabbed a pointed finger in Dazai's direction.

"I'd love to, but it sounds like a long process."

Their bickering escalated quickly. Kenji's problem slowly faded into the background as Kunikida's voice rose.

Tanizaki patted Kenji's shoulder sympathetically as he watched his superiors argue.

Almost out of nowhere, Kenji's hand shot up and he returned to his normally sunny disposition as he jumped in front of Kunikida. "Can we adopt him?"

The man had to strain himself to keep from hitting Kenji with a punch that was meant for Dazai's.

"What?" Kunikida sputtered, lowering his arms.

"Please, please, please! I promise, I'll take good care of him and feed him and-"

"Slow down," he said, pushing his glasses up.

"Can we adopt the tiger?!" Kenji asked again, his eyes pleading, but still full of hope. "Please!"

"He's a gladiator," Kunikida tried to explain slowly, willing the throbbing headache to ease. "You don't just adopt another gladiator."

"Why not?" Kenji asked, the light staying in his eyes. "If we brought his owner like five or six cows, we could make a trade."

"That's not how all this-"

Dazai hadn't heard the rest of that conversation. Their lounge had gotten too loud for him, and on such a dull topic no less. Besides, Kunikida wouldn't be happy when he was done explaining why bartering for a gladiator was much different from trading livestock. He couldn't help but envy the kid's simplistic view of life though.

It was late afternoon when he took a back door entrance to the arena audience. He wasn't normally a big fan of watching people fight, and going to watch was risky since he could always be spotted by one of his former colleagues in the Port Mafia, since they often dealt with gladiator trafficking and sometimes participated in the fights.

Sometimes though, very occasionally, seeing the bloodshed helped him think. It was a strange way to focus, but it was familiar to him. His mind was normally practical and clear, but even more so around fighting since one had to be concise to avoid injury.

He watched, thinking about how to topple the gladiator trade. That was the reason their group of gladiators had been formed after all. So they could work in the shadows and take down the forced fighting for good. It was basically the equivalent of toppling a government. They didn't have enough people in the rebellion yet. They needed more power.

Dazai leaned back in his seat and watched the blood splatter on the dirt, a bit bored with the current fight.

The injured fighter screamed his black clad opponent stepped back to avoid getting splashed with blood.

 _You didn't defend your right side._ Dazai thought as he yawned. _You would have been fine if you'd blocked his attack accordingly._

He watched his former student stalk out of the arena, silently criticizing nearly every move Akutagawa made.

The boy was still just the way Dazai had left him. Still broken. Still sloppy. Still a disappointment.

It didn't matter. He didn't come to watch Akutagawa's fight.

 _There he is…_ He thought as a scrawny, gray haired boy shuffled out into the arena. He'd only heard about the tiger before now.

The boy looked around, his face pale and his teeth gritted. If he'd been a normal human, it was clear that he wouldn't last long. His movements were slow and shaking. Dazai could see his face from where he was, just as Kenji had thought of him. He was scared, and he looked sad.

Carefully, slowly. The boy raised his knife. Then, he frantically thrust the knife into his abdomen. He didn't scream, but his face contorted and his teeth clamped down onto his lip. He doubled over. His body changed, shifting and turning into a beast.

He was sloppy in fighting… Maybe even worse than Akutagawa. It was clear he'd hardly actually been trained in combat. Even his actual fight as a tiger was painfully animalistic and random.

Yes, the boy was an absolute mess. Training him would prove difficult.

 _Well, who doesn't like a good challenge…_ Dazai thought as he watched the tiger disappear thanks to someone else's ability. _It looks like we're adopting a tiger after all._

 **Yep... There's the new chapter. Things are more or less looking up for Atsushi. I honestly hope it's more because he is a precious child who doesn't deserve everything this fandom throws at him!**

 **On a side note, who's feeling the hype about SEASON 3?!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello!**

 **My gosh, it's been forever since I've been on this fanfiction! (Or any fanfiction for that matter) Things have been crazy and busy, but anyway, I hope you all like this new chapter!**

"How much of our fight do you remember?"

Atsushi frowned. "Only the parts when I was human," he muttered before taking a sip of the water Dazai had given him.

"Do you remember any of your fights as a tiger?"

Atsushi looked down at his glass. "No," he said in a whisper.

"I see."

He didn't say anything for a few minutes. It had been so long since he'd actually spoken to someone who wasn't Lucy in a long time. When other people talked to him, he hardly replied. No one expected him to.

"Why am I here?" He asked quietly.

Dazai smirked and gave him a shrug. "A few reasons really. First and foremost, one of us wanted to adopt a tiger."

Atsushi could feel the blood leave his face. _Are they going to do the same thing Fitzgerald did?_ He thought. Would they lock him away and pull him out only when they wanted the tiger?

"Calm down," Dazai said firmly. "There's more to it than just the tiger."

He took a big breath before continuing. "Honestly, he mostly wanted to get you out of Fitzgerald's ownership. He said that the tiger just seemed scared and sad."

Atsushi couldn't deny that.

"Also, I watched one of your fights." Dazai tilted his head at him. "You've never actually been trained in combat, have you?"

It took a minute for Atsushi to reply. His mouth had gone dry at the mention of training, and he did his best to take a sip of water so it wasn't too obvious.

"A little," he answered. "They tried to teach me how to fight for about a week before just having me wake the tiger." Atsushi paused, unsure of how true his statement was. It wasn't as though he could be certain about what he'd said. He had been almost completely isolated. Really, he was only going off of what Lucy had told him and whatever Hawthorne had mentioned. "That's what I was told at least," he added.

"Yeah," Dazai said. "That sounds about right, based on when you were taken in and your performance in the arena as a whole."

Atsushi swallowed hard. "How long do I have?" He asked quietly.

"What? To live? Hard to say…"

"Before I have to go back," he managed, feeling cold.

It couldn't be too much longer. The sun had been up when he'd fought with Dazai, and the sky was dark now, the room lit only by a few lanterns. The lanterns were a luxury. As were the pillow and blanket. It would be hard… He'd have to go back into the dark, into his tiny room where he only had his paper thin mattress and door that locked from the outside.

"Ah," Dazai said. "Maybe I should have led with that." He snapped his fingers once near Atsushi's face to better get his attention. "Fitzgerald made a bet."

Atsushi looked at him blankly.

"It's a kind of match that comes up occasionally. Two gladiators fight, and the winner's owner takes in the loser. You understand what that means, don't you?"

 _I don't belong to him anymore._

One would have thought he felt a rush of relief, maybe some kind of joy. He was no longer Fitzgerald's property, not free, but few things could be worse than belonging to him. But Atsushi, to some extent, felt numb.

Getting away from Fitzgerald was welcomed, make no mistake. Atsushi had never once trusted the man, and Fitzgerald had never tried to be anything other than a tyrant towards his tiger.

But in the end, Atsushi couldn't feel like any of it mattered much. He still belonged to someone. He was still a slave.

Ultimately though, maybe, just maybe… He could make this work in his favor. Atsushi was no strategist, but he was observant. Dazai didn't seem cruel, not outside of the arena at least. His behavior sharply contrasted Fitzgerald's. Fitzgerald was always ruthless, dominating over Atsushi in every interaction.

Maybe he wouldn't be treated so badly.

Maybe- and he wasn't so sure about this, but he'd hold out hope-he could find a way to leave. It would likely take forever or would never happen at all, but he couldn't completely abandon the notion.

"That fight was rigged!" An all too familiar voice came from outside the room.

Atsushi went rigid.

Dazai clicked his tongue. "Well, he's persistent. I'll give him that."

Fitzgerald barged into the room after a few heartbeats.

"Nice of you to visit," Dazai said pleasantly. "Had I known you were coming, I would have made tea." There was something conflicting in his tone. It was as smooth and silk and at the same time, it was sandpaper.

Fitzgerald pushed past Dazai, hardly looking at him before striding over to Atsushi's bedside.

Atsushi's blood felt icy, and though every instinct told him to scramble away, to escape, his body remained still.

His former owner raised a hand and struck him across the cheek, hard.

Atsushi blinked away tears, feeling his skin burn where he'd been slapped.

"So disappointing, losing a fight so pathetically." He grabbed Atsushi by his shirt. "After we get a new collar on you, your training will progress, so an incident like this won't be repeated."

The boy struggled in his grip. He couldn't go back to that. He couldn't! Not to his prison cell of a room, not to the collar that gouged into his neck.

He was pulled halfway out of the bed before someone caught his shoulder and pulled him back.

"The deal was made," a deep voice said. "The boy is ours."

He looked up to see a man with gray hair and steely eyes. He shrunk under his gaze.

Fitzgerald's mouth twisted as though he'd tasted something sour. "Your gladiator cheated. He ought to be put to death for that."

On the other side of the room, Dazai's eyes lit up with interest. The man who still held Atsushi by the shoulder threw him a sharp look and a slight shake of his head. In response, Dazai shrugged.

"Can you prove it?" The man asked.

Silence stretched, leaving Atsushi looking between both of them.

"How much do you want for him?" Fitzgerald asked. "I'm willing to pay for him, even though he is rightfully mine." He listed a few prices that made Atsushi's head spin. It was more money than he could imagine.

He felt far away now. It was _so much money._

One would have to be crazy to not take to that money… He knew that because he also knew that he was worth so much less than what Fitzgerald offered.

"Actually," the man's voice cut through the fog in his brain. "The boy isn't for sale."

Atsushi's head snapped up, his face just as stunned as Fitzgerald's.

But in a second, Fitzgerald shaped his mouth into a stiff line. "Name your price."

"He is not for sale."

Neither backed down or broke eye contact.

Atsushi watched the silent negotiations, his muscles burning from being so tense.

"Very well," Fitzgerald said after a long stretch. His words and his eyes didn't match up. He said words of defeat, but his eyes were different, there was a certain light that made Atsushi uneasy. This wasn't over.

He left the room without another word, and even with him out of sight, Atsushi could feel the weight of it all stay settled on his shoulders.

"Are you alright?" The gray haired man asked, staring at the bruises Fitzgerald's hand had left.

Static seemed to fill Atsushi's head, a strange, tired buzz that filled his ears and made it hard to think. The question had to be repeated before it registered in his brain.

"I'm okay," he managed slowly. Ringing still filled his ears. He swallowed hard, feeling the serious aura this man gave off press in around him. "Are you… my new owner?" Those last three words felt ugly and bitter in his mouth.

The man glanced at Dazai.

"Right," he said, stretching. "I was just about to get to that." Dazai gestured to the gray haired man. "Atsushi, this is Fukuzawa Yukichi. To some extent, you're correct, but there's a bit more to it."

"You are free to leave if you want," Fukuzawa said.

Atsushi blinked. "What?"

"We aren't very much in the business of owning people."

Atsushi raised an eyebrow and pointed at Dazai. He would have said something if he wasn't at such a loss for words.

"Right," Dazai said. "Well, I choose to fight. He doesn't actually own me. If you want to leave, you can get up and leave right now."

The boy could have been knocked over with a feather in that moment. _I'm free to go?_ He thought, hardly daring to believe it. According to these men, he could walk away from fighting for good. He could forget about everything, about Fitzgerald, about the fact that he'd killed people while the tiger was in control.

"Though," Dazai began pensively. "If you do leave, I can't help but worry about you. Thousands of people know your face now. Fitzgerald would likely put a pretty bit reward on your head before too long. Or, you get snatched up by someone who's worse than he was."

Atsushi's heart sank.

Of course…

Nothing could be that easy for him.

"So anyway," Dazai continued brightly as though he hadn't just delivered such weighty news to Atsushi. "You can stay if you'd like to, and we'll teach you how to actually fight and control the tiger. The choice to leave is still yours of course. If you wanted to pursue a different life by tomorrow or within a few years, you're free to walk away from all of this."

Atsushi could feel the doubt in his eyes. He didn't even try to hide it. Something told him that trying to hide his emotions from either or the men in the room with him would be utterly useless.

"So, what will it be?"

 **Cliffhanger!**


End file.
